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Bird in Hand : A Play 
in One Act: by Laurence 
Housman 



Samuel French: Publisher 

28-30 West Thirty-eighth St. : New York 

Samuel French, Ltd. 

26 Southampton Steeet, Strand 



LONDON 

PRICE 35 CENTS 



Bird in Hand : A Play 
in One Act: by Laurence 
Housman 



Samuel French: Publisher 

28-30 West Thirty-eighth St. : New York 

Samuel French, Ltd. 

26 Southampton Steeet, Strand 



LONDON 

PRICE 35 CENTS 



c \-\', 






Copyrig-ht, 1916 

By LAURENCE HOUSMAN 






CAUTI0^3■ - - - Amateurs and Professionals are hereby 
warned that "BIRD IN HAND," being- fully protected 
under the copyright laws of the United States, is sub- 
ject to royalty, and any one presenting the play with- 
out the consent of the author or his authorized ag^ent, 
will be liable to the penalties by law provided. Ap- 
plication for the right to produce "BIRD IN HAND" 
must be made to Samuel French, 28-30 West 38th St., 
New York City. 

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. 



BIRD IN HAND. 



DRAMATIS PERSONAE. 

Professor Braintree A famous scientist 

Miss Tuckey „ „.His secretary 

Dr. Locum Mis medical attendant 

Elfrida „ His granddaughter 

Bird-in-Hand A thing to he explained 



BIRD IN HAND 



Scene: — You are looking into the^ study of a 
Scientist — a large room lined zvith books and 
specimen cases. At the back are tzvo upright 
zvindows, through which one sees a green 
bowery^ garden, suggestive of quiet and seclu- 
sion. In one window stands a case of stuffed, 
birds, in the other a microscope. Near the 
center of the room is a ponderous writing-table, 
above which hangs an adjustable light, presided 
over by a large green shade. Adjoining the 
writing-table is a smaller one, on zvhich stands 
a typezvriter. All about the room, on tables and 
systematically arranged, and suggestive of the 
s'trict order' imposed by a meticulous mind. 
There is one door to right, another to left, the 
latter leading to an inner chamber. On the zvrit- 
ing-table lie papers and a portable speaking- 
tube. A telephone, a zvaste-paper basket, and a 
revolving book-stand are zvithin easy^ reach of 
the Professor's chair, zvhile behind it is a screen 
partly covering the door leading to the inner 
chamber. On the opposite side, between the 
other door and the zvindozv, stands a large chest. 
It is morning, and through half-lozvered green 
blinds sunlight streams over the replete and 
conifortabli interior, touching to brightness the 
polished w.etal of the microscope, and the 
plumage of the stuffed birds. 

At the small table, on a chair less com- 
fortable than the one at the zvriting-desk sits an 



6 BIRD IX PL\ND. 

old gentleman in an affluent dressing-gown of 
deep rich tones, diz'iding his attention between a 
boTid of '' Benger's Food '' and the typewriter, at 
which he clicks with portentous graz'ity and oc- 
casioruu pauses in the fingering. He is ezn- 
derAly inexpert, perhaps through short-sighted- 
ness; but the typewriter helps him to feel, even 
in his study, thai his words are destined for 
print and the layirig-down of the scientific law 
for the generations to come after. 

The clock on the chimney-piece, a skeleton of 
severe design, with the workings of its metal 
bowels immcdestiy exposed, strikes eleven. 
This seetKs to be a signal to a mind methodically 
trained. The Pbofessor ccrtsults his watch, 
starts, looks reproachfully at the clock, then 
quits the typewriter, picks up his howl of 
Benger, and spooning from it on the way goes 
to the speaking-tube, which having unstopped, 
he breathes into. The exertion sets him cough- 
ing; but he does this, like most other things, 
patiently and methodically. After listening at 
the tube he speaks dozen it, and you hear a 
bisected conversation. 
Professor Braixtree. Is that jou. Miss Tuckey ? 
— Yes, I'm ready for yoti — I'm ready, I say — if 
you will, please. Yes. (He starts to put on the 
stopper again; then, as an after-thought) — Oh! 
Miss Tuckey — Are 30U there? — Tut! Tut! WTiy 
does the woman hurry so? (He gets up a little 
testily to romove his Benger bowl to a side-table, 
and progressing with very short steps places it un- 
securely on a projecting book wlience it falls and 
breaks. Ke accepts the fact philosophically so far 
as infirmity wiU allow; but there is a gentle queru- 
lovsness in his tone as he says — ) There, there! 
Oh dear! — {And leaz-ing the fragments to lie, re- 
turns to his place. There he stands for a moment, 



BIRD IX HAND. 7 

and looking back reproachfully^ removes from his 
eyes the highly magnifying reading-glasses which 
tL'ere the cause of the misliafs. He replaces them by 
another pair which permit a wider range of vision. 
Through these he is able to contemplate the en- 
trance of iliss TucKZY, a subdued mach'.ne of a 
xvoman^ who accepts, without kick of any kind, the 
^lould she has been poured into ) 

Miss Tuckev. Good-moming, Sir. 
{Like a well-fed fish catching at a fiy from mere 
Jiabit, the Professor engulfs and returns the 
salutation bx an inaudible movement of tfte 
lips.) 

Professor, Miss Tuckev, there is something 
broken over there, will you please see ir removed? 
And v.ili you kindly make a note to write to Messrs. 
Spink and \\'edge, and say that these new glasses 
don't suit me — I find them ver;v trj-ing to the — 
{About to say '' temper" he substitutes) — to the 
eyes. And I must ask you to fetch those proofs 
which came yesterday. I tried to caix:h you just 
now, but you had gone. 

(/« this statement tkere is a note of rebuke for a 
too precipitate obedience to sumftions. But by 
the foresight of Miss Tuckey, the proofs are 
there; she deposits them in front of him.) 

Professor. Oh. very v.ell. Thank you. Any 
letters? (Those also she deposits, in two heaps, 
the business ones opened, the private and personal 
untouched) When did these come? 

Miss Tuckey. Most of them last night, sir, after 
you had gone to bed. 

{The Professor, tentatively inspecting them, re- 
members that he must change his glasses again. 
The magnifying lens proves informative.) 



8 BIRD IN HAND 

Professor. Ah! here is one from Miss Elfrida, 
I see. 

Miss Tuckey. (As she collects and removes the 
fragments of the Benger's Food bowl) That only 
came this morning. 

Professor. Wasn't she to be back to-day? 

Miss Tuckey. Yes. They are expecting her 
quite soon. About twelve, I believe. (The Pro- 
fessor looks at his watch, and then remembers 
that lie has fault to find zvith the clock, and inci- 
dentally 2vith her) 

Professor. That clock is three quarters of a 
minute slow, Miss Tucky. (Miss Tuckey at once 
goes to correct it) It should now be at four and a 
quarter minutes past. A clock that loses time is 
so disturbing — especially when it strikes. It puts 
me out of my stride for the rest of the day. (He 
begins looking at his correspondence) And now, 
if you will attend to me! (Miss Tuckey is already 
standing meekly to attention) You have your note- 
book? 

Miss Tuckey. Yes, sir. 

Professor. Take this, then ! (He consults once 
more the letter which he has picked up from his 
opened correspondenec) — " Mr. James Pomeroy."^ 
(I think it is Pomeroy) — He writes on good note- 
paper with a crest; I suppose I must answer him. 
" Dear Sir " — Oh ! while I think of it, make a note 
that the extra plates for the new edition of "Ob- 
jective Science " have not come through as ad- 
vised ; and they must not go to press till I have 
passed them. What have you got ? 

Miss Tuckey. " Mr. James Pomeroy, Dear Sir." 

Professor. No, better make it " Sir." These 
parasitic correspondents ought not to be encouraged. 
" I beg to acknowledge receipt " — no. " I have to 
acknowledge " — have — " the receipt of your letter " 
— date so and so. " With the proposition therein set 
forth, I cannot find myself in agreement. The limits 



BIRD IN HAND. 9 

of sensory receptivity are patent to every scientist." 

Miss Tuckey. The limits of what? — I beg par- 
don. 

Professor. " Sen-sory re-ceptivity " — in other 
words, the receptivity of the senses. " That fact, 
however, does not provide any legitimate ground for 
a belief in those magical or supernatural occurrences 
through which, as 1 apprehend, you seek to counter- 
balance the deductions of science. I find no reason 
to doubt that however much still lies beyond the ap- 
prehension of our senses, it must all nevertheless 
be within the range of a scientific explanation. 
I am, Sir, yours faithfully " — {He takes up another 
letter) Oh, that is from Messrs. Moody & Prose. 
Just say " received," and have made a note. This 
is to take the chair at the International Science 
Conference for the discussion on the " Homology of 
the Invertebrates." Say I accept the honor and am 
their obedient servant^ — That is, no. That is 
" no "^—{He hands letter) That impertinence you 
need not answer — And now, take this — " Mrs. 
Daphnephoria Brown — the Seminary, Brunswick- 
ville, Connecticut " — " My Dear Madam, Your very 
flattering proposal to arrange a compendium from 
my various studies in Objective Scinelce, entitled 
' Sufficient unto the Day,' and intended to provide a 
basis for the accurate biological training of the very 
young, gives gratifying evidence of the interest you 
take in and the value which you attach to my literary 
labors. I am inclined, however, to think that the 
terminological exactitude so necessary to scientifilc 
statement could not be accommodated to the range 
of the child-mind without a certain damage to the 
content " — Of course, that means to the scientific 
content, not to the child's mind. (No, no, don't 
take that ! That was only commentary — " Should 
I, on later consideration, see any possible adjust- 
ment of my works to your proposed scheme I shall 
not fail to communicate with vou further in the 



10 BIRD IN HAND. 

matter. I am, dear Madam, yours very truly " — 
That you can destroy, and the address you need not 
keep. (He hands over the letter to Miss Tuckey) 
And I think that is all — Oh, wih you fetch me the 
file of Professor Lake Jones' articles on the " Rudi- 
ments of Corpuscular Gravity " which appeared in 
last year's " Science Journal." You will find it in 
the Press Bureau, i think, under " R." (Miss 
TucKY goes to look for the file in the small inner 
chamber, from zvhich, as she opens the door, comes 
a brighter light of day than enters the study through 
the tempering green blinds) And now for Elfrida. 
(He opens letter) Well, well, well! What is she 
sending me this botanical specimen for, I wonder? 
It looks like a leaf of the Hornbean — Carpinus 
Betulus, if I am not mistaken. {He examines the 
leaf, then lays it down and returns to the letter) 
Dear me ! The child has such a hand-writing that 
I can't read a word of it. Miss Tuckey, your eyes 
are better than mine, will you kindly read me this 
letter ? 

(Miss Tuckey has returned with the required file. 
She puts it dozifn and takes up the letter.) 

Miss Tuckey. " Dearest Grandpapa " 

Professor. Yes, yes, I read that. 

Miss Tuckey. " I am coming back to-morrow — 
I have had a lovely time. So did Benjy : we went 
everwhere together, but he always would go into 
the water, and I had to stay out " 

Professor. Benjy is the dog, I believe. 

Miss Tuckey. " That was wrong of him, wasn't 
it? — To-day in the wood I saw a tree full of 
fairies, it was wonderful. But when I came they 
all climbed up and hid behind the leaves, so I wasn't 
able to catch one. But I send you a leaf off the 
tree, so as to show it was a real one, and not what 
you call my ' magination ' " 



BIRD IN HAND. ii 

Professor. Oh, so that's what the botanical 

specimen is for, is it? — Yes? 

Miss Tuckey. " Please keep it till I come, then 

I will tell you all about it " 

Professor. Miss Tuckey, I wish you would not 
leave that door open ! There's a dreadful draught 
at my back. 

Miss Tuckey. It isn't open sir. 
Professor. Well, there's a draught somewhere — 
Quite a wind ! It seemed to come all of a sudden ; 
and there! it has blown away Miss Elfrida's leaf 
that was here a moment ago. (He friggles and 
moves his head uneasily, as though the draught still 
afflicted him) You had better re-arrange that 
screen. Well, is that all the letter? 

Miss Tuckey. Yes, sir, except she sends her 
love. (She goes and re-arranges the screen) 

Professor. Very well. That is all, thank you, 
for the present. Just draw down those blinds be- 
fore you go. The light is too strong, it tries my 
eyes. (Miss Tuckey lozvers the blinds) I should 
be glad to have that article for Hibbered's copied be- 
fore post-time. 

Miss Tuckey. Certainly, sir. 
Professor. And when Miss Elfrida comes will 
you send her up to me? 

Miss Tuckey. Yes, sir. 
(She collects her papers and goes out, and the 
Professor settles to his zvriting. Putting aside 
Elfrida's letter, conspicuous by reason of its 
being zvrittcn on pink paper, reminds him of the 
vanished leaf. He gives a momentary look 
for it to right and left: but the thing is unim- 
portant, and dismissing it, he gets to work. 
This so entirely absorbs him that he is unaware 
of being looked at. Above the top of the writ- 
ing-table a pair of strange eyes gradually em- 
erge. Dark and insect-like, they stare at him 



12 BIRD IN HAND. 

out of a small green face, sharp, queer, and sug- 
gestive of a brain with a vivacious but detached 
standpoint. Out of the head sprout long horn^ 
or antennae; the creature is a curious mixture 
of beetle, bird, and grasshopper. Its color 
from head to foot is bright green. Fixing on 
the Professor a stare of tininformcd and quite 
unintelligent interrogation, it moves slowly 
round the ivriting-table till it stands opposite 
to him. Presently it smacks its lips, and begins 
a soft jabber to itself, not much louder than 
the whip of leaves on a zvindozv-pane.) 
Bird-in-Hand. Quit-a-quit ! Quit-a-quit ! Quit- 
a-quit ! 

{The Professor, thinking he hears something, looks 
up through his reading-glasses, and cannot be- 
lieve his eyes. At once his grievance is against 
the optician. ) 

Professor. Really ! — these glasses ! — How they 
do strain one's eyes! (He takes them off, and puts 
on his distance-glasses; but the apparition remains, 
vibrating up and down on its toes as though rather 
pleased zvith itself. The Professor considers it 
from a variety of attitudes, and zvith a growing 
apprehension that he really is seeing something) 
Dear me, now ! This is most extraordinary ! — It 
almost makes me believe my eyes. {He en- 
deavors to reconstruct his thoughts on scientific 
lines) — Now, let me think, let me think! How 
many cups of green-tea did I have this morning? 

Bird-in-Hand. Sik-silk-silk-silk-silk-silk-silk ! 

Professor. Six, I believe it was ! — Did that thing 
speak? {A pause) 

Bird-in-Hand. {With a slozv, meditative, rather 
plaintive introduction) Chwee-e-weet ! 

Professor. But, but this is an hallucination! 



BIRD IN HAND. 13 

Bird-in-Hand. Chich-a-wee ! 

Professor. An hallucination, I say! 

Bird-in-Hand. Chich-a-wee ! 

Professor. {Trying to reject the evidence of 
his senses) No, no, no ! — I must be ill ! — Over- 
work ! 

Bird-in-Hand. Chip-chip-chip-chip-chewee-e-e ! 

Professor. What — Am I going out of my senses? 
(He makes a dive for the telephone) Station 1228, 
please — yes ! i double 2, 8 ! 

Bird-in-Hand. Two-eight ! Two-eight ! — Eight ! 
eight ! eight ! eight ! eight ! eight ! 

(The note is still yozv and plaintive, but the Pro- 
fessor gets more and more frightened.) 

Professor. I can't bear this ; I can't bear it ! — 
My nerves won't stanr it ! 

Bird-in-Hand. Chip it ! — Chip it ! 

(The 'phone calls him.) 

Professor. Is Doctor Locum — ? Oh, Doctor, is 
that you? — Will you, please, come and see me at 
once ? — Braintree — Professor Braintree. Yes— 
most urgent — I'm afraid I've, I've — broken down. 

Bird-in-Hand. What? Wliat? What? What? 
What? 

Professor. No, no, a blood-vessel! — But do 
come immediately ! — Yes. Don't lose a moment, I 
beg — Good-bye 

Bird-in-Hand. Sh-sh-sh-wee ! Sh-sh— sh-wee ! 
—Oh, why?— Oh, v.-hy?— Oh, why ?— Spit-it-out ! 
Spit-it-out ! 

(The Professor with a gorgonised stare has been 
trying to ride the thing out; nozv by a firm ef- 
fort of zvill he seeks to dismiss it from his 

) mind.) 



14 BIRD IN HAND. 

Professor. No, no, it's not there ! I don't see 
it, I don't see it, I don't see it. 1 

(But he does see it; that's the trouble. It advances 
its head slowly towards him, then draws it back 
again, and with a more cheerful note than be- 
fore, as if to encourage him, remarks:) 
Bird-in-Hand. Che-wit! 

{At this the Professor shuts his eyes, and con- 
tinues to exercise his zuill-power, tinder condi- 
tions ivhich make the assertion more tenable.) 

Professor. I don't see it and I won't see it! 
I won't see it! — I — I dismiss it entirely from my 
mind. It isn't there! {While he is thtis tackling 
the problem the creature shifts its position, and noiv 
standing at his back, views him from a fresh stand- 
point with the same blank stare of a curiosity that 
comprehends nothing. The Professor opens his 
eyes again. Will-power has apparently prevailed. 
He no longer sees the object of his aversion) That's 
better! {He begins cautiously to turn his head 
first to right then to left. It gives him a great start 
to find the green horned creature close behind him. 
This is too much like having a caterpillar dozvn his 
back for equanimity. Irrespressibly he jumps up) 

Professor. Get out ! 

Bird-in-ITand, Che- wee — che-wee — ichewee— 
chewee — chewee! {The creature flies off crying like 
a startled black-bird. The Professor, seeing that 
it responds to voice and gesture, tries driving it) 

Professor. Shoo ! Shoo, get out with you ! 
Scat! But no, no, I mustn't do that! If I do that, 
I shall end by making myself think it exists. No, 
I must endeavor to dismiss it from my mind. 
There ! There ! Now it's gone. 



BIRD IN HAND. 15 

{Leaning kis head on hh hand, he sits with munch- 
ing month, wriggling nervously in his seat. 
Meantime the creature, sliding alongside the 
table, and tottching things tentatively with its 
claw-like fingers, lights on the typewriter. As 
the click of the instrument catches its fancy, 
it makes a scrambling attack upon the keys 
■with acompanying noise curiously resembling 
the ivell-known saw: "Peter Piper picked a 
peck of pickled pepper corns." That, hoivever, 
is merely coincidence — the sounds it emits be- 
ing merely a running commentary on the letter 
P) 

Bird-in-Hand. Peet-a-pipe ! — Pick-a-peck — 

Pick-a-peppa-kum ! — E-peet-a-pipe — a pick-a-pick — 
a-pick-a-pepp a-kum. Wees-a-pejck, a pick-a-peppa- 
kum. Peet-a-pipe-a-pick ! 

{At this outburst of oratory the Professor, after 
sitting spellbound for a moment, makes a 
vicious flick zvith his handkerchief, and the 
green imp ducks and disappears.) 
Professor. Well — I — hope I'm better! {This 
hope is almost at once put to rout. The Professor 
apprehensively snatches back his feet from the knee- 
hole of the writng-table , and his brain is once more 
seised by panic) Oh! I felt it! I felt it — I'm 
out of all my senses now ! — If this keeps on much 
longer, I shall go stark staring mad ! 

{But noiv the creature's interest is diverted else- 
where. Rising and pirouretting across the room, 
it comes suddenly upon the case of stuffed birds, 
and stands transfixed with astonishment. These 
frozen bits of bird-life seem to baffle its zvits. 
It taps the glass-case, and after a close scrutiny 



i6 BIRD IN HAND 

tries with sounds and a flapping motion of the 
hands to coax the occupants back to life.) 

Bird-in-Hand. Chich-a-wee ! Chich-a-wee ! — • 
Tweet, tweet ! Wee-wee-wee ! Chi(ck-a-wake ! — 
Oh, why? — Tickle 'em up! Too-to-weet! Too-to- 
weet! — Eat, eat, eat, eat, eat, eat! Quick, quick! 
Josophat ! Josophat ! Whit-a-woo ? — Drink-and- 
eat ! Tr-r-r-r-r-r-r-r ! 

Professor. Oh ! But this is horrible ! — It's true ! 
It really exists! (He sits petrified) 

Bird-in-Hand. Tr-r-r-r-r-r-r-r! 

Professor. And / don't! — I don't! — I don't! 

Bikd-in-Hand. Cheer-up! Cheer-up! Cheer- 
up! — Oh, why? (Petrifaction gives way to fury) 

Professor. Stop it! Stop it, I say! (He picks 
tip a pamphlet and throzvs it with random aim, this 
hit-or-miss has little effect. A deep sadness at its 
failure to rouse the birds has taken the tree-imp. 
Crying hi a lozv plaintive note it turns tozvards him) 

Bird-in-Hand. Wee-wee! wee-wee-wee! 

(It advances slozuly tozvards him. The Professor 
makes a grab at the speaking-tube, and blozvs, 
then speaks down it.) 

Professor. Miss Tuckey, are you there! Miss 
Tuckey ! 

Bird-in-Hand. (Halting for a moment) Tuckey, 
tuckey, tuckey — Tuck ! — tuck ! — tuck ! 

Professor. Would you come up, please, for one 
moment ! 

Bird-in-Hand. (Secretively) Sh — sh — wee ! 
(As if on a tour of exploration, it disappears behind 
the screen at his back) 

Professor. Now I shall know whether I am mad 
or not. Yes, I shall know! — (Enter Miss Tuckey. 
The Professor faces her in some confusion. The 
relief of her presence lets him dozvn and it is hard 



BIRD IN HAND. 17 

yor Jihii to collect his ivits) I — I — I want you to see 
that those proofs go, Miss Tuckey — by the first post. 

Miss Tuckey. Yes, sir — (She looks a little sur- 
prised and nonplussed) Did you want anything 
else, sir? 

Professor. Oh, well, and if you would kindly 
rearrange that screen ? I still feel rather a draught. 

(Miss Tuckey goes and readjusts the screen. It 
is evident that, as she goes behind it, no appari- 
tion confronts her; she emerges as machine-like 
as ever, calm and collected.) 

Miss Tuckey. Will that be as you wish? 

Professor. Thank you. 

Miss Tuckey. Is that all, sir? 

Professor. Yes, that is all. {He looks cautiously 
round, and as she goes out gets up and looks behind 
the screen himself. Nothing is there) But this is 
horrible ! I saw it ! Oh ! if I didn't see it, I'm going 
mad ! 
"■^. 
(Almost immediately in another part of the room 
the apparition re-appears.) 

Bird-in-Hand. Peweet, peweet ! Chus-luk-a- 
mee ! Chus-Iuk-a-mee ! 

(With this, the spring cry of the peczvit, sounding 
so much like "Just look at me!" it displays a 
hitherto unsuspected pozver of levitation in a 
Series of surprising bounds into air, as though 
its feet zvent up from spring-boards.) 

Professor. Ah ! Now then ! Now ! 

(From a corner rack behind him the Professor 
snatches a large green butter-fly net, and for a 
fezv moments you have the degrading spectale 



i8 . BIRD IN HAND 

of an. eminent scientist, pursuing on the material 
plane something which he does not really believe 
to exist. But the pursuit soon ends. The imp 
is too agile, the pace is too killing, and the 
Professor in his stumhling course has knocked 
over a number of things that he did not intend 
to. Exhausted, he sits dozvn again to breathe. 
Once more the creature has disappeared. Thus 
momentarily relieved, he perceives the disarray 
into zvhich the chamber has been throzvn, and 
proceeds to pick things up. Apparently from 
its place of conceahnent the creature is zvatch- 
ing him, for almost immediately he hears its 
voice. ) 
Bird-in-Hand. Pick-it-up ! Pick-it-up ! 

(To be thus ordered about by an apparition is try- 
ing to the Professor's temper. He slaps dozvn 
his gleanings on the table, and makes a second 
grab for the butterfly net.) 

Professor. No — no, I mustn't do that : it's no 
good. I must think ! 

Bird-in-Hand. Think — think — think — think — 
think ! 

Professor. I will just go on with my writing 

Bikd-in-Hand. Do it ! — do it ! — do it ! 

Professor, —as if nothing had happened at all — 
Perhaps it hasn't! (But again the creature has re- 
appeared) Oh, do get away! 

Bird-in-Hand. Chich-a-wee! Che- wee ! (Real- 
ising it is not zvqnted, it roams off and begins once 
more to inspect the room. Before long it runs its 
finger dozvn a pile of papers high up on a shelf, and 
the papers tip over and fly out across the floor. 
Fleeing before them) Che-wee — Che-wee — Che- 
wee, Che-wee — Che-wee ! 



BIRD IN HAND. 19 

(The Professor is nozu so angry thai he has left off 
being frightened. He jumps up to rescue his 
papers. ) 

Professor. Hallucination, you are a perfect 
nuisance ! 

Bird-in-Hand. (Coaxingly) Che-wee-wee? 
(The Professor collects the strezvn papers from the 
floor; and as he goes about gathering them up, 
the creature follozi'S him, with round inquisitive 
eyes at all he does. He opens chest and begins 
to deposit the papers inside. Curious to spy into 
this nezu interior, the creature stretches out a 
hands. ) 

Professor. (Very irritably) Why can't you let 
things alone? 

Bird-tn-Hand. (Derisvely) Chich-e-zvee! 

(With a sportive dive it plunges into the chest, 
tossing up the loosely arranged papers into fresh 
confusion. On this last bit of exasperating frivolity 
the Professor slams dozvn the lid, and locks it; and 
the tree imp is boxed up zvithin. It takes him a 
moment or tzvo to realise his triumph. It is a little 
difficult, indeed, to knozv on zvhat lines to take it. 
Has the locking of the chest, zuith the hallucination 
inside, disposed of the hallucination f His doubt 
is solved almost at once, for from the inside of 
the chest the halhicination once more becomes 
a%tdible) What? What? What?— I say! Let it 
out! Let it out! Quick! Quick !— Oh, why? — (A 
pause. The Professor stands considering; he has 
the key. He retreats tozvard the table, and lays it 
dozvn. The chest continues to give forth sound. A 
tapping begins upon the lid, and in a gradual 
diminuedo the chattering goes on. The Professor 
dips a pen, and tries to resume his zvriting, but his 
interest is still held) I say! I say! I say! Pick it 



20 BIRD IN HAND. 

out! Pick it out! What? What ?— What ? What? 
—What? What? What? What? What? What? 
— Tweet-weet ! wee, wee, wee, wee ! Oh, why ? — 
What?— Oh, why?— What?— Oh, why? 

(The sound is nozv so faint that the Professor can 
scarcely hear. He again dips his pen and 
resolutely starts writing. There comes another 
"Oh, ivhy" which he does not hear. His nerves 
are recovering somezvhat, encouraged by the 
ensuing silence; but he gives a sharp start when 
the whistle of the speaking-tube blozus. He un- 
stops it and listens.) 

Professor. Oh, yes. Will you ask him to wait 
one moment? {He gets up and goes cautiously to- 
zvard the chesty stops and listens at it for a moment, 
zuith apprehension that turns to a sort of doubtful 
relief) Nothing, nothing there, at all ! (Neverthe- 
less, he gives a last look of suspicion, and pauses one 
last second before again applying his mouth to the 
speaking-tube) Ask Dr. Locum to come up. 
(Catching sight of the butterfly-net, he goes to put 
it away, and has just done so when the Doctor 
enters.) 

Doctor. How are you. Professor? Nothing very 
serious, I hope — 

(The Professor holds himself in. He is now feel- 
ing a little aggrieved at the shock he has ex- 
perienced.) 

Professor. Doctor, I— I want you to examine 
me, before I~before I say anything. 

Doctor. Examine you? — in what way? 

Professor. Just find out my symptoms — my state 
of health, generally. 

Doctor. Well, Professor, let's see the tongue! 
Then I'll take your temperature — Sleep well ? 



BIRD IN HAND. 21 

Professor. Much as usual. 

Doctor. Appetite good? 

Professor. Yes — fairly. {At this moment in 

goes the thermometer, and the Professor becomes 

temporarily speechless. The Doctor feels his pulse, 

looking at his watch meanwhile) 

Docker Hours ? Plave you been keeping late hours 

Professor. M — m ! (Assisted by gestures this 
sound stands for "no") 

DocTER. Everything quite regular — as usual? 

Professor. M — m (This time it means "yes") 

DocTER. Yes: the pulse is a little bit agitated. 
Have you been putting yourself to any unusual ex- 
ertion lately? 

Professor. M — m! (This melancholy moan of 
affirmatioyi is emphasised by a m,otion of the head. 
And the Professor's eyes tvirn toivard the chest) 

Doctor. Ah ! but you shouldn't do that ! you must 
take more care of yourself. Your heart isn't what 
it was. Mustn't expect it at your age. Now then, 
let's see! (Withdraws and examines thermometer) 

Professor. Circumstances, over which I have no 
control, caused me to exert myself. 

Doctor. Well you know, there's not much wrong. 
Temperature about normal. 

Professor. Doctor, a most extraordinary thing 
has just happened. I must tell you about it. 

Doctor. H'm — h'm? (He sits down) 

Professor. I was sitting here at my work — I was 
writing — there ! as you see. Does that in any way 
look agitated ? (Shows him, a paper) 

Doctor. I should not say so. 

Professor. Does it make any sense? 

Doctor. " When all the objectie data presented 
to sense-receptivity are compared, and the dif- 
ferentiations of their varying incentives and re- 
actions properly allowed for — " Well, I should say 
so — not that I altogether understand it. 



22 BIRD IN HAND. 

Professor No, but it is constructive ? -Would you 
say the man who wrote that was out of his sences ? 

Doctor. Most certainly not! 

Professor. I only wish to show that I was in the 
full possession of my faculties, my ordinaiy work-a- 
day mind. 

Doctor. Very well. Professor, I accept that. 

Professor. Well — Suddenly I glanced up, and 
there I saw a horrid little green thing looking at me 
— with eyes ! 

Doctor. Yes : it would have eyes, if it was look- 
ing at you. 

Professor. Very curious eyes. Doctor, — like a 
young bird's ; and it had horns also — And — well, 
there it was, you know ! — At first I didn't believe 
it, I thought it was green tea — I tried to dismiss 
it from my mind altogether. But — it w^ouldn't let 
me. Before I knew where I was, it — it spoke to me. 

Doctor. Did you speak to itF 

Professor. Yes, I did. 

Doctor. Fatal thing to do, Professor. Of course 
in that vv^ay you encouraged the — the phantasy. 

Professor. Ah, but it was not / who spoke first — 
At least I was only talking to myself. And suddenly 
it said — "Six, six, six, six, six," — just like that! 

Doctor. Was that in answer to anything? 

Professor. Well, in a sort of way, yes — I had 
just said to myself: "Now, how many cups of 
green tea did I have this morning?" — And then it 
made the remark. 

Doctor. And six was the number? 

Professor. There, or thereabouts. 

Doctor. Very well. Professor. Now, better not 
think any more about it. I'll make you up a pre- 
scription. And you had better quite knock ofif that 
green tea for a little while. 

Professor. But that's not all, Doctor. 

Doctor. Do you think you need tell me any more ? 



BIRD IN HAND. 23 

Professor. Yes. You don't how real it seemed. 

Doctor. It would give you that impression. 

Professor. But even now. 

Doctor. Yes, yes. But there will be a reaction. 
That will pass. 

Professor. But — Doctor — I'm not satisfied. 

Doctor. You will be. Don't dwell on it ! You'll 
get all right again. Don't work too much at night, 
and don't sit up late. 

Professor. I go to bed regularly every night at 
a quarter to ten. 

Doctor. Good ! Then just for the present make 
it half-past nine. 

Professor. Doctor, I want to explain — At 
first, of course, I took the view that you take. I did 
not for a moment believe that such a thing could 
exist. I regarded it as an hallucination. But later 
on, it — well I came to think otherwise — It did such 
d lot of things — that I could not myself have con- 
ceived — and once it actually touched me. That was 
a great shock. 

Doctor. Yes, it would be, naturally. But you 
were indulging the 

Professor. No, no, Doctor, I was not. I — 
Well, now what I want to tell you is this. When I 
began to think that there was something real about 
it after all, I — then, I'm sorry to say, I let myself go, 
and I pursued it — all over the room. 

Doctor. Any good? 

Professor. None whatever. I knocked over a 
few things, that's all. I was picking them up just 
before you came in. 

Doctor. Well, and then? 
(7^he Professor's eye travels toward the chest; but 

he is unable to confess himself quite honestly.) 

Professor. Then — it disappeared. 

Doctor. And you haven't seen it since? 



24 BIRD IN HAND. 

Professor. No. 

Doctor. Nor heard it? 

Professor. I have not — . That is, no. 

Doctor. Well, then, that's all right. 

Professor. I hope so. Doctor, I haven't quite 
explained to you the shock it was to me. It was 
that terrible moment when I thought that, after all, 
there might be something in it ! At that moment I 
saw all my life's work disappear. All my science, 
all my philosophy — gone! Everything I had written 
— worth nothing ! 

Doctor. Well, well, but don't dwell on it! 

Professor. It was terrible! 

Doctor. But it wasn't true. 

Professor. No — But for a moment it seemed 
true. That is really what-what gave me such a shock 

Doctor. Well, it's over. Now, don't think any 
more of it. That is the best cure. You say you 
haven't been sleepless? 

Professor. No — but I shall be. 

Doctor. Oh, no. We'll see to that ! I'll send you 
the right thing. To-night you'll sleep like a top. 
{He gets up to go.) 

Professor. Thank you. Good-bye. (The Doctor 
starts to go) You don't think that I'm really off my 
head, do you? 

Doctor. No, no, Nerves a little bit upset, that's 
all ! — a little too much work, a little too much sitting 
still, a little too much indoors — and a little too much 
green tea. Many a little makes a mickle. 

Professor. I don't want it to occur again. Doctor. 

Doctor. It shan't, sir, it shan't ! Now, good- 
bye ; I must be off ! 

Professor. Thank you. Good-bye. (The Doctor 
goes out. The Professor stands looking at the 
chest) And to think how I saw it go in there ! (He 
goes and stands by the chest; listens for a long time, 
then taps) Is anyone — ? — Is anything there? — 
Ah! That's all right, then! — I hope. (He goes 



BIRD IN HAND. 25 

hack to his seat. Then his eye falls on the key; he 
takes hold of it, and is about to get up again. With 
an effort he sits back, letting the key go) No, I will 
not I — But suppose — suppose it were there after 
all ! No, no, no—. It wouldn't do at all. Every- 
body would think that I was mad — Well, I 
must — I must try to get on with my work. (He 
composes himself to tin-ite. Presently there enters 
an attractive little figure in a knitted cap, jersey, and 
skirt of bright green. This is Elfrida. She ad- 
■vances very quietly, with a roguish smile, stops at 
the table and stands looking at him. Suddenly, with 
the tail of his eye, the Professor catches sight of 
her. It gives him a dreadful start; but a look at her 
over the top of his glasses reassures him) Effie! 
Why, Effie, m.y dear, what a start you gave me! 

Elfrida. {Getting nearer the truth than she 
knmvs) You thought I was a fairy. 

Professor. No, I didn't think you w-ere a fairy. 
I thought you were an hallucination ! 

Elfrida. What's that? 

Professor. Something that's not real, my dear. 

(Elfrida lias sidled round to the back of his chair; 
. and nozv, from behind, she gives him an affec- 
tionate hug.) 

Elfrida. I'm real. 

Professor. Thank God for that ! — Well ? 

Elfrida. Oh. Grandpapa, I've had such a lovely 
time ! You got my letter ? 

Professor. Yes, my dear — Oh, by the way, 
you've come just too late. 

Elfrida. What for? 

Professor. The Doctor, my dear. I wanted him 
to see you. 

Elfrida. Why ? 

Professor. To tell me how you are. 

Elfrida. But I'm quite well — ever so well ! 



26 BIRD IN HAND. 

Professor. I hope so, my dear, but one never 
knows. 

Elfrida. / do ! And Grandpapa, you got my 
present, didn't you ? 

Professor. Your present? 

Elfrjda. In my letter — What came off the tree 
that had fairies in it. 

Professor. Oh, yes, yes. It's somewhere about 
here, {He starts to search, then remembers) Oh, 
no ! It blew away : — it's on the floor somewhere. 

Elfrida. And you do believe what I told you — 
don't you. Grandpapa? 

Professor. Well — I've thought about it. 

Elfrida. It was true — I saw them ! You must 
believe that ! 

Professor. Well, I don't know — One isn't sure. 
So you've had a good time, eh ? 

Efrida. Grandpapa — If you could only make 
people knozu there were fairies, wouldn't it be 
wonderful ? 

Professor. I suppose it would be, my dear. 

Elfrida. But no one believes in them now, do 
they? 

Professor. No, not usually. 

Elfrida. Grandpapa, if you were ever able to 
find one — wouldn't it be grand? 

Professor. Would it, my dear? 

Elfrida. Did you ever try ? 

Professor. Once I did, for a short time. But if 
I were to, no one would believe me. 

Elfrida. Oh. but if you found it and showed 
it to them, they'd have to. 

Professor. Yes, I suppose they would, my dear. 

Elfrida. And then you'd be ever such a great 
person — much greater than you are now ! 

Professor. But my dear, you — you don't under- 
stand. If people were told that Professor Braintree 
believed in faries — why, they would laugh! 



BIRD IN HAND. 27 

Elfrida. You'd laugh, too — but you could laugh 
longer than they would. 

Professor. Eh ? 

Elfrida. Why, it would be like a miracle ! 
People would begin to love fairies again, then. 

Professor. Well — perhaps. Green isn't my 
favorite color. 

Elfrida. It's funny your saying that ! The fairy 
/ saw was green. 

Professor. Was it? 

Elfrida. And it had long horns, and its mouth 
and eyes were just like a young bird's (This almost 
startles the Professor out of his skin. Blinking and 
munching, he sits staring, zvhile Elfrida continues 
to deal her devastating blows) And it ran round be- 
hind the tree, and when I got there, it was gone. If 
you'd been there. Grandpapa, to run round the other 
Avay 

Professor. Run round? 

Elfrida. And if you'd had your butterfly net — 
{This gives the Professor a fresh jerk) Why, 
we could have caught it ! 

Professor. Well, I'm not so sure—? Perhaps. 

Elfrida. But, Grandpapa, you are believing what 
I tell you, aren't you ? — I saw it — really I did ! 

Professor. I would like to believe it, my dear — 
It would make a great difference to my state of 
health. When you saw it, didn't it upset you? 

Elfrida. No ! 

Professor. It didn't frighten you? 

Elfrida. No ! Why ? 

Professor. Not even when you ran after it? 

Elfrida. Why, no ! Of course it ran, too. But 
it was quite nice about it. 

Professor. Was it, indeed? 

Elfrida. It made a noise at me — just like a bird 
— a nice bird. 

Professor. Did it say " Sick, sick, sick, sick ?" 



28 BIRD IN HAND. 

Elfrida. No ; it only went " Chewee ! Chewee !" 
— just like that! 

Professor. Then I'm not mad after all ! 

Elfrida. Grandpapa, what's the matter? 

Professor My dear — you would really like to 
see that — that thing again? 

Elfrida. Why, yes ! 

Professor. Green, and with horns, and eyes? — 
Hear it again? 

Elfrida. Yes. 

Professor. Run after it again? — with a butterfly 
net? 

Elfrida. And catch it ? Oh, yes ! 

Professor. Well, my dear, there's — there's no 
accounting for tastes. But I begin to think that I'm 
not so mad as I thought I was. 

Elfrida. I never thought you were mad. Grand- 
papa. 

Professor. Thank you, my dear. I'm glad of 
that— Now, look here, you see that chest? This 
is the key to it — Now, will you go and open it? 
And don't be afraid of anything you find in it — 
It's all right. 

(Elfrida goes and opens the chest. And while she 
stands for a moment looking in, nonplussed, 
there is much more excitement in the Profes- 
sor's demeanor than in hers.) 

Elfrida. But, Grandpapa, there's nothing! Oh! 
(At this cry of discovery the strain on the Profes- 
sor's feelings qrozvs intense. Elfrida stoops and 
picks up something) Why, it's the leaf! — The 
leaf of that tree what I sent you ! — Oh ! 

Professor. The leaf, you say? — Bring it here. 

Elfrida. And it's all quite withered and dead! 
(She brings it across to him, and the Professor 
looks at it tvith curious eyes.) 

Professor. So it is, to be sure ! — Quite withered 



BIRD IN HAND. 29 

and dead. Well, there ! Put it down, my dear, 
leave it alone ! — And now you had better run 
away. I must get on with my work. 

Elfrida. What shall I do with it, Grandpapa? 

Professor. Put it in the waste-paper basket, my 
dear ! — That's right. Now, run away ! 

(And so the dead leaf drops to its repose on a bed 
of scrapped science shif tings. From that fairy- 
fimcral Elfrida turns, doivn-cast and sad, and 
with head bent and hands straight as though 
under some deep disgrace, goes softly out of the 
room. As the door closes behind her the 
Professor gives a look into the zvaste-paper 
basket, then heaves a sigh of relief, and goes 
on ivith his zvork.) 

Curtain. 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 




